Title: Target

Summary: "You weren't meant to be the target, Cid. Hopefully that will bring you some comfort before you die."

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Warnings: Torture, angst, graphic smut, blood, gore, swears, smoking, drinking, drug use, rage, yaoi, etc.

Grunting softly to himself as he came to his senses, the blonde whined softly in his throat as he tried to assess where the pain was coming from before even attempting to move. He could feel a radiating pain in his temple that stood out as far worse than the ache in his back and the hot, dry feeling of his tongue sticking to his roof. Attributing the dry mouth to his drinking from the previous night, or what he believed to be last night, Cid tried licking his lips, hoping to produce enough saliva to aid him in escaping the horrors of dry mouth.

Satisfied with the small amount of comfort that a wet tongue and less parched mouth could give him, the pilot struggled to recount what had lead to him ending up wherever he was. He remembered drinking so that explained the cottonmouth. Deciding by his levels of pain that nothing was broken, Cid tried to reach up to rub his temple, assuring himself that it could not possibly hurt him anymore than he was already hurting. A frown pulled at his lips when he found himself unable to move to provide himself a small amount of comfort, no matter how futile the effort.

A bright blue eye cracked open slowly, revealing the vibrant color to the world as the blonde hoped to see exactly what was keeping his arms from moving as he would like them. Enlarged pupils contracted hastily at the vicious light that bore down on his face, causing the stocky man to clench his eyelids shut as he hissed in pain. His head throbbed at the remaining pain and new addition pain of a bright light glaring down at his eyes. Cursing his luck and his life as softly as he could manage, the blonde tried to make out any sounds around him as his pain pulsed through his head in time with his heartbeat, making Cid hate his current situation even more.

Remembering his sudden awakening previously in a dark room, the Captain clenched his jaw as he struggled to recall the small details from his assailant during their two encounters. He could remember smacking into the person's chest; nothing was soft about it. He figured that he would not be remiss in assuming that he had run into a man instead of some Amazonian-type woman. Hell, he had yet to find a single woman that was tall and muscular without the heavy use of drugs, mako, or high heels.

Continuing with his train of thought, the pilot tried to use the opportunity to focus on something other than the pounding in his head. All right; so this person was definitely a guy and taller than him. Granted, that was not too hard seeing how he was of average height; he had run into many people that were taller than him. Hell, he was one of the shortest guys in Avalanche, not that he would ever admit such a thing to anyone.

So, this guy was definitely tall and well muscled. He had picked up the scent of leather after the fucker had so rudely kicked him in his back. And his boots were ugly as fuck. So, a fashionably-challenged, heavily muscled person who had to be strong and fast in order to catch him off guard. Even drunk, Cid knew that he could still hold his own in a fight. They were also silent as hell because he did not remember even hearing the person's God-forsaken, ugly-ass boots hitting the floor before either of the assaults on his person.

He needed to think of someone who was fast, silent, probably a leather addict, abnormally tall, strong, and had no idea what should not be worn. The main person that fit all the of criteria was Vincent Valentine. That made Cid frown as he tried to think of other clues. There was no way that the demonic sharpshooter in their group of friends had actually kidnapped him. Hell, they had grown closer over the years; shared drinks, late calls at night, flying around the planet at the gunner's odd requests when he wanted companionship. He was certain that it was not the brunette gunner simply from the fact that he did not remember seeing any gold metal or blood-red fabric. And he was pretty damn certain that the lanky, demon-bearing gunslinger rarely went anywhere without that long and tattered cloak swirling about and covering ninety percent of his body. ...Not to mention, he was fairly certain that the guy was either unwilling or unable to remove his left arm at the elbow.

That meant that if had to be someone else. And damned if that meant that it had to be someone that he did not know. After Avalanche had taken down Sephiroth and ShinRa fell along with the building, just about every person on the whole goddamn planet had caught wind about the group that had taken out two different, yet similar, kinds of psychopath. There were deals in advertisements, commercial deals, movie deals, acting deals... This list went on and on about people wanting them to do stuff so they could use their names. They all had refused, all but Yuffie who whined and complained about the amount of money that they could make. That still didn't stop local towns from celebrating their homespun heroes and the press having a fucking field day putting pictures of them on the news. He had to admit, though, they got a really good one of Vincent flipping them off while holding a glass of wine. The downside, though, was that every fucker on the planet knew who they were and what they looked like.

Someone, he had money down that it was that rat-tailed bastard Reno from the Turks, had leaked out ShinRa files about Avalanche. Files that listed their fighting techniques and any possible ideas on how to subdue them. There was no doubt in his mind that the files were put online and that any sick fuck could look it up and try to get their glory by taking out Avalanche singlehandedly. No one had succeeded as of yet, but that was probably because most people had figured out that if a group of crazy motherfuckers were willing to travel together across the entire planet just to kill one motherfucker who was even crazier than all of them combined, that attacking the group was just a stupid-fuck idea.

Until this crazy asshole came along. Sure, Cid was glad that he was one the nabbed instead of one of the children, or Yuffie even. Sure, he gave her hell all of the time, but that did not change the fact that he was a bit of a softie and she was still a scrawny girl with a big mouth. He sure as fuck did not forget that time some fat fuck kidnapped her after she robbed them; the Wutaian self-proclaimed ninja squealed, sobbed, and whined so loud the fucker was about ready to let her drop to her death rather than listen to her. Granted, when he is dealing with a hangover and she won't shut the fuck up, he often feels the same way.

But that was neither here nor there.

No; here he was strapped to a goddamn table with bright fucking lights in his face wondering about who the fuck was crazy enough to not only kidnap his ungrateful and grumpy ass, but crazy enough to do it while the others were upstairs sleeping. Then again, they would have to be even crazier if the person had attempted such a stupid fucking thing while everyone else was awake.

But he really had to figure out just who the fuck it was that whipped his ass and took him hostage.

Fuck, this was one hell of a way to spend a reunion.

He went back to thinking about his attacker, trying to recall any specific detail he could that would help him when it came to figuring out just who the hell had gotten the jump on him. Fast, tall, leather, ugly boots... Other than Vincent, who was ruled as innocent, the only people he could think of were dead. Granted, the former Turk had told him that he was not positive that Rosso had been dead as she had fought with Cloud. That made no sense though because from what he could gather from both their blonde leader and the brunette gunner, she was one talkative gal and sure as fuck loved to hear the sound of her own voice. Not to mention, he distinctly remembered a flat chest and when Reno had grilled Cloud about how stacked the chick was, the blonde had turned five different shades of red and clammed up.

So...leather, ugly boots, male, fast, and tall...

Anyone that he thought of as a possible fit for that description all turned up the exact same way.

Sephiroth? Dead.

All three of the weirdly named kids that were Sephiroth's clones? Dead.

Some pansy-ass ginger who spouted horribly poetry and wore heels? Dead. ...Hopefully.

Any of those jar-headed lunks that Cloud idolized back in Soldier? Dead. Dead. Dead.

It made no fucking sense for someone to kidnap him without any personal ties. This person was most likely on mako, too. All of the dead fuckers that he thought were even capable of pulling off such a stunt were all hopped to the gills with that shit and out of their goddamn minds. ...Granted, that did explain Cloud and Reno. Hopped up and bat-shit crazy. So there was a good chance that their whack-job was just as fucking drugged to the gills on that dangerous shit. Sure, it had its high points, as did many drugs out on the market, but mako was the only one made from the Lifestream and strong enough to kill the majority of the population at any given moment.

Grumbling to himself as he looked around, unable to make out anything that was not under the harsh lights, Cid let out a litany of colorful curses. What he could see was no fucking help when it came to getting the fuck off of the goddamn table with all of his limbs intact. What the fuck he would do for his tools right about now! ...Or just a pair of goddamn pants!

Freezing at the sound of footsteps, the blonde pilot whipped his head towards the sound, his head swimming at the sudden movement and reminding him of his earlier activities before he was snatched out from behind Tifa's bar. His stomach churned at the sudden way the room felt like it had lurched out from underneath him, and his throat burned while the contents of his stomach tried to free themselves from his body. Holding back the feeling, Cid swallowed thickly as he tried to focus on the person that was walking closer.

He could hear the boots crunching against the hard material of the floor, unable to remember if it were made of stone or concrete anymore. Narrowing his eyes to focus on figure standing in the darkness, blue eyes widened as he made out two pairs of glowing, green eyes that brought to mind the same eyes of a vicious feline. "Fuck," Cid snapped as he narrowed his eyes defiantly once more. With the way his head was spinning and his vision wavering, the blonde could not tell if there were actually two other people in the room or if his was simply seeing double. He could make out that one pair of eyes was higher than the other pair but they were both tilted in opposite directions. Either they were both looking at him funnily or he was seeing fucking double.

At that moment, Cid was not sure which one was worse.

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Thanks for reviewing:

Inuobsessed004: Ha! That's a good one! He really is an odd choice for a victim. But it's only fair; Cid was actually kidnapped before (right?).

ABNORMAL2110: -Insert creepy music-I'm ALIVE! Heh, thanks. Here you go.

TerrorInYerBathtub: Especially when one of them is Yuffie. Heh, you'll see.

Aeriths-Rain: He's a clever one. Here you go.

SentrySapper77: I shall; here's more.

BigMariofangirl: Here's more for ya!